


The Consequences of Watching Zombie Films With Your Best Friend

by TeaRoses



Category: Die Ärzte
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 10:05:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaRoses/pseuds/TeaRoses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bela admires Farin during a show and hopes for the best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Consequences of Watching Zombie Films With Your Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This did not happen and is strictly a product of my imagination. I mean no disrepect, and mean to imply nothing about the real lives of the people whose names appear in this story.
> 
> Notes: Written for the "performing" prompt on Cotton Candy Bingo. I am really nervous about putting this up, but I did finally write it and I decided to take the chance.

Bela finally felt ready. Short sleeves, for tonight, to show off the tattoos a bit. The hair was all right. The goatee looked sweet, even if the other two liked to pick on him about it. He gave himself a leer in the mirror and laughed.

It wasn't the biggest place they'd ever played but it wasn't the smallest either. The place was full, a big crowd, and that always got him excited. To himself, he would always admit that Die Ärzte put on a good show.

He still got nervous sometimes even after this many years in the business. How long was it now? The nineties would be over before he knew it; where had the damn time gone?

He was still staring in the mirror, waiting for Farin and Rod to come bother him to go onstage. The knock came, and when he saw Farin he had to take a deep breath and remind himself to think about the show and not about last night. Farin just smiled, like always, and Bela couldn't decipher anything from that.

Last night had been a night off, and Bela had sat watching one of the worst zombie movies he had ever seen in his life. Farin had knocked on the door and come to join him. For a while they had simply stared at the screen while a zombie fought with a shark at the bottom of the ocean. They started laughing at how stupid it looked.

Then Bela, without even being drunk, pretended to bite Farin like a zombie. "See, I can do better than that--" Farin had turned his face at the same time, and they had kissed. With Bela's mouth already open, the kiss became intense quickly. Bela's heart pounded as he gently pushed his tongue into Farin's mouth while wondering what the hell was going on.

It wasn't the first time Bela had kissed him, or the first time he had wanted to. It was always sort of this undercurrent they both acknowledged. "We should really make out, us two, except--" And somehow it had never happened, not even when they lived together. (Well, especially not then -- they both needed a place to live without an ex-boyfriend in it, to be honest.)

They had kissed, mostly for cameras, and cuddled, with no excuse whatsoever, and Bela had thoughts and he just knew Farin did too. Yet it had never come to this. Bela hadn't wanted to take the chance, sometimes -- Farin wouldn't reject him and he knew it but then what if the whole thing didn't work out. That happened to the greatest of love stories and they weren't the greatest of love stories, just two punks with a decent band. He wasn't about to see their friendship grind to a bitter end. 

Then he would get his nerve up to do something or at least say something, and he would find out Farin was in some tiny town in some country Bela had barely heard of and it was too late. Sometimes he just wanted to blurt it all out to Farin on the spur of the moment, because he knew he would accept it all, probably welcome it, damn it, but he still didn't.

But now this was only getting worse, or rather better, with Farin's hands stroking Bela's hair. Bela let himself lie down on the couch with Farin on top of him. He wasn't going to interrupt, or say a damn thing, because if he ruined this he would never forgive himself.

It wasn't ruined, not yet at least. Farin did pull away for a moment, muttering something about "beard burn" and then ran kisses down Bela's neck. Bela was deeply aroused by now, pressing himself against Farin's leg where it lay between his.

And then the damn phone rang. Bela wasn't about to answer it, but they were on tour and there were always a million questions and changes. And Farin was a professional, in his own punk rock way, so he leaped off Bela and answered.

Bela made elaborate plots to sic zombies on whoever the hell was calling. Turned out it was the tour manager, looking for Farin actually, with some urgent business about the venue.

"I'm going to go take care of this. I have to," Farin had said. He was flushed himself, and looking at Bela apologetically.

Bela told himself not to act like a teenager about this but his eyes must have widened or something because Farin added, "Don't worry. It will be OK," just as he left.

And Bela had settled back onto the couch and turned off the movie before he decided to kick the screen in. What did "don't worry" mean? Was he supposed to be worrying that it would happen again or that it wouldn't?

The only consolation was that he was damn sure what "It will be OK," meant. It meant Farin loved him. Because he did, even if he decided he didn't want to hook up with him. That was the consolation in suddenly making out with your best friend after all these years -- there was too much between them for all of it to be ruined and no matter how hard they tried, the friendship would still be there.

On that note he had managed to sleep. And the next day when they were all too busy to sit down and have a conversation like the one he had in mind, he had gotten through it all just by remembering the look on Farin's face when he said "It will be OK."

And now it was time to perform. That could take his mind off almost anything. There was something in the way the crowd responded, that give and take of emotion. Making them laugh, making them think a little now and then. Sometimes they would sing along and Bela would think "Yes, you're with us." And he could be a bit of a clown for them too, which was all he wanted some days.

The show went well from the opening cry of "Fuck you and your sisters." The crowd was amped up and not just to hear the most recent hit -- they responded to everything they played with cheers. Bela was laughing behind his drums, keeping the rhythm going and giving them what they wanted. 

Farin looked on top of the world, grinning and nearly dancing with excitement. This was a man who never had to fake it, and Bela loved watching him, loved the way his back and ass moved as he seduced the crowd. 

Rod, and one could never forget Rod, was setting down the bass line with his small secretive smile. He was a damn talented musician, and Bela would never regret that there were three of them now.

Then Farin started on "Die Allerschürfste." There was something about the way Farin sang that one, like his voice was dancing a sexy and sarcastic tango. It got to Bela every time. 

After the last notes of the song died away, Farin came back behind the drums and put an arm around his shoulders, kissing him on the cheek to a roar from the crowd. In Bela's ear he whispered, "After the show, we pick up where we left off."

Bela could feel a tingling all over his body from Farin's breath in his ear. He grinned and raised his drumsticks toward the crowd just to hear them yell, the way he wanted to yell right now. 

Even as he threw himself back into his drumming he thought of Farin's scent, Farin's skin. Tonight he just might have everything he wanted, he thought to himself. And it was about time.


End file.
